


Don't Let Me Go

by CrazyTacy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Comforting, Fans, Fluff, M/M, Mobs, management
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:29:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyTacy/pseuds/CrazyTacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Larry Stylinson one shot inspired by Harry constantly being mobbed by his fans and Louis comforting him. Fluff and angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Let Me Go

**Harry’s POV**

 

_“Why? Why can’t I just go with them?”_  I asked for the billionth time, sending a pleading look to Paul, fixing a stranded curl which tickled my cheek.

_“Harry, you know if it was up to me… “_  He replied, his voice full of empathy. He patted me on the back slowly leading me to the main entrance, the screams penetrating the thick hotel walls. I put on my sunglasses, pressing them firmly to my nose. He said, voice barely above a whisper _“I’m right here Harry, it’s going to be fine.”_. I opened the door and would have gotten instantly deaf I’ve it hadn’t been the third time they were making me do this.

 

I couldn’t even estimate the amount of girls crazily jumping up and down in front of me holding banners, posters, cameras, screaming my name. As I tried to pass them, I took as many pictures as I could, smiling wide, glad the sunglasses held the emotion I so desperately felt  hidden from prying eyes. Suddenly the little path leading me to the car had been overtaken by the growing crowd. I couldn’t distinguish anything apart from girls who seemed scarier, screaming at me, grabbing whatever they could reach. I tried to reason, asking repeatedly _“Please let me through”_ , but nothing happened. They treated me as if I was a toy they so desperately wanted, hands locking me in my place. Tears started forming in the corners of my eyes, I felt so lost, deserted, and meaningless. Suddenly, a firm hand much bigger than the previous ones dragged me to the car. As he placed me on the seat we took off almost immediately. I started gasping for air, desperately clutching my seat. Paul quickly gave me an inhaler, and I felt the air filling up my compressed chest, my heart beating rapidly. I was silent the entire ride, Paul knew that there was only one person who could cheer me up, and he was waiting for me to come. As we arrived I slowly got out finding him standing near the door, a worried look etching his features, I was already feeling better just from the sight of this wonderful man in front of me.

 

**Louis’ POV**

_Half an hour earlier_

 

_“Where the hell is he? He should have gotten here ages ago?!”_  I hissed checking my phone, still no answer.  _“Maybe he got held up?”_  Niall flashed me a carefree smile, nibbling on the 15th chicken wing, seriously how many do they put in those buckets?

Liam eyed me slowly, and I knew he was debating whether I am really concerned or am having one of my drama queen moments (please, those only happen when I’m hungry, or sleepy, or have a bad hair day, or … ok maybe I do have them a lot, but still). Finally he decided and said  _“Maybe we could call Paul?”_ , just as I started dialling the number, a voice behind me echoed making me jump:  _“Or you could just check twitter, the fans always know what we’re doing even before us, so..”_. I thought Zayn was asleep, or on his phone, who knows, he doesn’t really pay much attention, but I had to admit it was a brilliant idea.

 

 

Opening my twitter app I quickly glanced through the mentions and there were a lot : _“Harrys got out of the hotel, OMG”, “There soooooooo much people here crazy!”, “He’s so cute, I would just….”_ , I glided down skipping the racy tweets. I saw a lot of them attacking someone’s tweet calling her jealous and not a real fan. I opened the tweet, it read  _“Harry was near me, he begged people to let him through, he looked sad and scared,you should be ashamed.”_

I felt broken, I constantly break my promises. Although he seems bigger and more manly than me (though I’d never admit it), he’s quite fragile, and gets upset very easily. I have long promised him that I will always protect him from the world he often didn’t understand. He is too nice, naive, a gentle soul. He sees the good in everyone, trusts anyone and feels responsible for things he can’t control. This world is not for him, we all know it, but he is there, for his love of music, for us, for me, struggling everyday to survive the dark that surrounds him, the control, the manipulation, the distance, the hate and rumors, the attention.

 

  
My chain of thought was broken as I heard the car arriving, immediately jumping and waiting for my love by the door. As the door opened, I saw just how broken he was, bloodshot eyes, tangled hair, shirt hanging awkwardly, shivering slightly. I engulfed him into a bear hug, pressing his body to mine, feeling his heartbeat on my own. He placed his head on my shoulder, wrapping his long arms around my waist, his breathing slowing down. I held him there for a long time, pressing a long kiss to his unruly mass of curls, breathing in his scent.

 

  
I felt a single drop on my shoulder, as if rain was beginning to fall, and that’s exactly what happened, the drops increasing, a quiet whimper muffled by the material of my shirt Harry was now desperately clutching as if holding onto a lifeboat, afraid of sinking. _“Baby, I’m here now, everything’s fine, you’re safe, I love you”_  I whispered over and over again until the tears reduced and the whimpers could hardly be heard. I sighed, suddenly met with bright green orbs, shining strongly like every time he cried. His eyes had a questioning look as if asking me why were they doing this, why can’t he be with me, why are they constantly throwing him into a pit of teen piranhas not caring about his safety, why do they say such things about him, why… But his lips held all these questions in, knowing the simple answer to all of them **“Because they can”** **.**

 

We all knew how they saw us - as profit. Nothing more. And we try and we try so hard to live the life we deserve, but just as we get there - not to feeling happy, but at least feeling normal, they push us down again. And I’m tired, we all are. I’ve once been carefree, an idiot some may say, looking at the seemingly bright opportunities in front of me. But as time goes, my resentment grows - the monster in my chest not letting me sleep at night, wondering how life would have been like if I haven’t gone to the X-Factor. The only thought getting me through is that I never would have met this amazing, nice, incredibly handsome, geeky, awkward man standing in my arms, the love of my life.

  
I went on my tippy toes and pecked his lips lightly, squeezing him even tighter, rubbing his back soothingly, afraid that one day he might break, but pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind. He put on the smallest of smiles, but a sincere one, his arms increasing their hold.

 

 

_**“Don’t let me go”**  _he whispered.

_**“I won’t”** _

__

**Author's Note:**

> This has been on my Tumblr for a while, thought I'd post it here. It's short I know, but it still holds a special place in my heart.


End file.
